


Hold Tight

by TheRiverScribe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brief Incident of Homophobia, Festivals, Fluff, Gabriel Monthly Challenge, Internal Conflict, Longing, M/M, Public Display of Affection, Sabriel - Freeform, Touching, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 06:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11248329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRiverScribe/pseuds/TheRiverScribe
Summary: They'd become fluent in the unspoken language of lovers who couldn't proclaim their devotion in public.Everything they felt was said in silence, communicated through gestures and codes.Gabriel hated it with a passion.





	Hold Tight

**Author's Note:**

> To my "By the Grace of God" readers: this is NOT set in that 'verse!! Welcome to my first attempt at Sabriel <3
> 
> Written for the June Gabriel Monthly Challenge on Tumblr. Dialogue Prompt: “All I know is one of us is right and the other one is you.”  
> Also inspired by ANZ Australia's #HoldTight ad campaign--> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ov0Imud5AUQ
> 
> Shout-out to my betas/friends who talk me through plots and off ledges: @Nathyfaith, @ScrollingKingfisher, and @MonPetitTresor all held my hand as I panicked my way through my first ship-fic. Bless their souls!!
> 
> NOTE FOR MY INTERNATIONAL FRIENDS:  
> *Funnel Cake is waffle/pancake batter deep fried and coated in sugar  
> *Lemonade is basically lemon juice, water, and sugar. It is not a fizzy soft drink! ;)

Today was a good day.

The Summer sun sat high in a brilliantly blue sky, heating the pavement and people that lined the Main Street shops. A local crafts festival flavored the air with funnel cakes and wood smoke. Bluegrass players gathered in the shade of a massive oak tree to practice—their music drifted over the crowds, a pure vibration of strings unenhanced by amplifiers and microphones.

Gabriel walked slowly through the booths, taking time to admire the human gift of creation. Wood carvers gave live demonstrations with traditional tools while potters provided space for curious artists to paint bare ceramics. Jewelers displayed pendants made of stones and crystals bound by intricate twists of metal. A large tent held quilts made by community groups as part of a competition each year.

The archangel stopped by a table offering a variety of regional foods. Homemade jams, canned vegetables from a garden, fresh breads, and desserts covered every inch of the plastic tablecloth. He picked up a jar of local honey to inspect the hand written label when he felt someone standing behind him.

Gabriel grinned. “I thought I'd lost you for good back there.”

“Sorry,” Sam said sheepishly. “I've never seen glass blowing before.”

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

“It looked like magic the way the shape and color kept changing. I can't believe that guy can work next to a furnace in ninety-degree heat.” Sam wiped at his forehead, drenching his sleeve in sweat. “He can't be human.”

“Do you want to go back and check?” Gabriel asked, handing money to the vendor for the honey. “I think there's another demonstration soon. You know...just to make sure.” He looked up in time to see the hunter blush.

“Maybe,” Sam said shyly.

“Better safe than sorry, Samshine!” Gabriel winked, delighted to see the flush turn to flames at the nickname.

“Gabriel...” Sam muttered as he glanced around them. But no one paid them any mind.

Fingers brushed against the back of Gabriel's hand and he nudged his shoulder against the taller man in response. They'd become fluent in the unspoken language of lovers who couldn't proclaim their devotion in public. Everything they felt was said in silence, communicated through gestures and codes.

Gabriel hated it with a passion. The pagan in him embraced public displays of hedonism with joy, while the archangel railed against the injustice of a culture that shamed love. But society made Sam guarded, so Gabriel was willing to show restraint—publicly, at least.

“Come on,” he said, shoving Sam toward a stand where school kids pressed lemons with cranks over a large basin full of ice. “Let's get you hydrated. I'm not explaining to Dean why you turned into a raisin with sun stroke.”

Sam stumbled, laughing. His hand started to reach back, but twitched as the hunter became conscious of the movement. It quickly detoured to rub across his own lower back.

Gabriel sighed and walked faster to catch up. “So what did you see the glass man make?” he asked cheerfully, swallowing the sourness of denial.

They stood in line for the lemonade as Sam rambled excitedly about a snail figurine. The taller man leaned down to be heard over the crowd's noise, making his hair fall into his face. Gabriel wanted to push it back so he could see the hazel eyes he knew were shining with discovery.

Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and focused on the smile gracing his lover's lips.

The lemonade came in large mason jars crammed with crushed cherries. They strolled through the crowds back toward the glassblower's set up in silence. People had already gathered around the stall, sitting in small groups on the benches lining the roped-off work space. Heat poured out over them, and a few fanned themselves with festival programs.

“So, get this,” Sam started, pulling up an article on his phone. “Did you know glassblowing started one to two millenniums before common era?”

“I may have heard something about it,” Gabriel smirked, remembering the good times he'd had at Choga Zanbil. He'd been there when the art form was first developed, marveling at human ingenuity.

Sam fell silent, lost in his reading. His right hand rested on the bench between them, and Gabriel casually set his own next to it. Goosebumps rose along his vessel as though his very skin reached for the man.

He let one finger brush against Sam's while keeping his eyes trained in the opposite direction. Sam startled at the touch, and his eyes swept the crowd without turning his head. Gabriel almost moved his fingers away, but then he felt it—a large pinky hooking around his own little finger. Suddenly, he forgot to pretend-breathe.

A great hulking figure covered in tattoos and leather protective gear stepped around a sign that read “Anders, Master Glassblower.” His long black hair was tied back with an old-fashioned cloth strip. The man gave the audience a quick nod, then turned away to check the furnace.

Gabriel elbowed Sam. “Damn! If you're a moose, this dude's a titan. He reminds me of Samson,” he whispered, putting the program up to his mouth to keep his words a secret just for Sam. The solid body at his side shook with silent laughter, and Gabriel saw him nod in agreement.

People filled in along the benches, and Gabriel paid no attention to them. His entire world reduced to his lover's pinky finger, and the way it felt against his skin. It made him want to fly them home so he could wrap the rest of his body around him.

Smothered laughter broke out behind them. Gabriel peered over his shoulder to see a young man in a red baseball cap elbowing his acne-riddled buddy. The boy pointed at them, smirking cruelly, and blew him a mocking kiss.

Sam froze, recognizing the sounds directed their way.

Fury filled Gabriel. How dare they? Stupid humans—they wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for this man! All of existence owed Sam Winchester. Humanity had been destined for dust until his sacrifice!

“Gabriel,” Sam muttered, still not turning. “It's okay.”

“It's really not, Sam,” Gabriel ground out through clenched teeth.

“Do you want to leave? We don't have to watch the demo.” Sam's offering only angered Gabriel more.

The sounds behind them grew louder, attracting the attention of others. Heads began to turn in their direction, revealing a range of expressions from confused to disgusted. But many faces showed horror as realization dawned on them.

“We are not leaving,” Gabriel said firmly. He sat up, squaring his shoulders and staring determinedly ahead.

“Gabriel...”

“Nope.”

Sam sighed, his body hunching down like it would make him less noticeable. But it was too late—even Master Glassblower Anders was looking at them. In fact, he was ducking under the rope and walking toward them.

“There a problem here, folks?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“No! No problem,” Sam answered quickly with a grimace. “Just here to see the glass blowing.”

“Or some kinda blowing...” Red-hat behind them said in a loud whisper. The idiot's friend laughed like a nervous hyena.

Gabriel felt his grace burn with righteous wrath and the call for judgment. His wings rose and his vessel shook with barely contained rage. Sam grabbed his hand in a crushing grip, desperately trying to hold him in place and not caring who saw if it saved lives.

“Hey!” Anders snapped.

The crowd fell silent, including the two idiots. Gabriel and Sam both froze, then looked up at the towering artisan. He wasn't addressing them.

“Get up,” he ordered.

“What? Why?!” Red-hat demanded. “We didn't mean nothing. You can't make us move for just having some fun!”

“Get up,” he repeated in a dangerously low voice. When they still didn't move, he bellowed, “Now!”

The boys scrambled from the bench, but the glassblower caught them by the collars before they could run. They both let out a strangled yell. In slow, deliberate steps, he walked them backwards to the front of the crowd. He released their shirts and moved to stand toe-to-toe with them.

“Apologize.”

“To who? Those fa—”

“Me,” the man cut them off. “You will apologize to me.”

“What?” Red-hat gave a Dean Winchester-worthy eye roll. “Your show hasn't even started yet! We didn't disrupt nothing.”

“You have sixty seconds to apologize to me. Starting now,” he said, looking to the right in search of something.

The kid crossed his arms, oozing arrogance. “Do you even know who I am?”

“All I know is one of us is right and the other one is you,” Anders turned back to the boy and grinned. “Forty-five seconds.”

“Or what? You'll call security on us?”

“Or else you can apologize to my husband. He's walking over here now.”

Everyone's heads snapped in the direction he'd indicated. Sure enough, a man in a horse farrier's brown leather apron was stalking toward them with a worried frown. He carried a mallet that rivaled Thor's hammer.

Idiot number two blurted out, “Sorry!” as his face paled dramatically beneath layers of teenage blemishes.

The glassblower swung his gaze toward the main offender who stared with wide eyes at the rapidly approaching giant. He cleared his throat, making the kid jump. “Apologize,” he said again.

“Sorry, man. I didn't know...”

“You didn't need to know. It shouldn't matter. You don't 'need to know' to act like a human being.” The man stared at him for a moment. Finally, he jerked his head to the side. “Get out of here. And learn some goddamn manners before next year's festival.”

The boys didn't need to be told twice. They ran away to the sounds of the crowd laughing. A few people even clapped.

Anders ducked carefully back under the rope barrier and resumed his preparation, acting like nothing had happened. The farrier made his way to the front and joined him. They exchanged no words, conveying through looks everything that needed said.

Gabriel stared in shock. He hadn't taken a breath in probably ten minutes, and he wasn't sure he was capable of starting again. Unfamiliar emotions burned the back of his throat.

Sam still held his hand in a death grip. Fine tremors worked their way up the hunter's arms and his breathing sounded too shallow. Gabriel turned his hand, lacing their fingers together in a more comfortable position. Their wrists pressed against one another, and he felt Sam's pulse racing. Slowly, they leaned closer until their shoulders brushed. And there they stayed through the entire presentation.

The next hour passed in a blur. Gabriel couldn't pay attention to a single thing the glassblower said or did. He concentrated on calming down his anger and grace, desperately hoping the day did not end with bitter resentment.

Part of him wished he could go back and redo the whole last hour. Maybe if they'd sat another inch apart, the kid would have ignored them. Or maybe they should have gone to a different festival in a different town in a more tolerant region—if those even existed.

Gabriel sighed. How could humans be such unbelievable creators _and_ destroyers at the same time? How did they coexist without one side overtaking the other? Did they need one another for balance? A lyric played in his mind: “The opposite of war isn't peace—it's creation.”

“Hey,” a soft voice said. A young girl, not yet a teen, had turned around on the bench in front of them. She smiled, shy and kind. “I'm sorry about that guy. He's a local asshole. Are y'all okay?”

Gabriel glanced up at Sam. The man drew in a shaky breath, but returned the smile. “Yeah, we're good,” he answered, pushing the sweaty hair away from his face. “Thanks.”

“It's cool! I'm Frida, but everyone calls me Freddy.” She stuck out her hand, revealing leather bracers. Gabriel saw embroidery along the seams that alternated through the colors of the rainbow.

“It's nice to meet you, Freddy,” Gabriel gently shook her hand. “I'm Gabriel, and this is Sam.”

Her eyes sparkled as she gave a lopsided grin. “My dads don't tolerate snots like that at their demos. They say it throws off their energies, or something. They're such nerds.”

“Your...dads?” Gabriel asked. He saw Anders and the farrier walking toward them like fierce warriors. Sam got carefully to his feet, pulling Gabriel up with him by the hand before letting go. He didn't have time to mourn the loss when the two artisans joined them.

Sam nervously wiped the sweat from his palms on his jeans. “Your show is amazing!”

Anders studied the hunter. “You were at both shows.”

“I...yeah, I was,” Sam tripped over his words, thrown off by the statement. “The first one was so good, I wanted to bring my...friend.” They hadn't really decided on labels for one another—usually, Gabriel would create elaborate nicknames and rotate through his favorites each week. But now the pause seemed to echo. They all heard it.

Freddy stood on the bench and draped herself across the glassblower's shoulders. “Daddy,” she whispered into his ear, “his name is Gabriel!”

The farrier grabbed the girl around the waist and swung her from the bench in a twirl. “Alright!” he laughed. “All trolls report to the blacksmith—there are horse stalls waiting to be mucked!” She let out a high squeal and took off running as soon as her feet hit the ground.

“And what did you think?” Anders asked Gabriel.

“I...” Gabriel stalled. He'd been too overwhelmed by the man's bold display, and hadn't seen a second of the show. “It was...hot. I mean, temperature-wise it was very warm. Not hot...as in...” He felt his wings puff as he got more flustered. Sam's elbow brushed against him, solid and soothing.

Anders chuckled. “It's okay. I saw you looking down for most of it. The sun bounced a halo right off the top of your hair.”

Gabriel had no comeback. People made angel-references all the time once they learned his name, but they were all jokes about harps and robes. They rarely left him feeling exposed.

Sam sensed his unease, and took over with the smile he used when dealing with cops and witnesses. “Well, I paid attention. He probably spent the whole time sorting through the giant box of saltwater taffies he thinks I don't know about.”

“So you didn't see what I made?” Anders asked, still looking at Gabriel.

“A...snail?” he guessed. He knew he was wrong when the two artisans gave matching grins, and Sam sighed.

Anders turned to Sam with narrowed eyes. “Did you see?”

“Um...” Sam rubbed the back of his neck and dropped his gaze. “I had trouble seeing at the end. The smoke kinda burned my eyes.”

Gabriel's head twisted to look at Sam. There was an emotional undertone to his words that made the archangel suspect the smoke hadn't been the problem. Had he not noticed Sam crying?

The farrier hummed and nodded in understanding. “It can be hard for people who have never been out around it. It still bothers me some days.”

Gabriel didn't know if they were talking about the smoke or the idiot boy.

“Then this will be a surprise.” Anders said, ushering them all to follow as he returned to the work space.

“What?” Gabriel asked, feeling dumb.

“The piece I made at this demo was a smaller version of something else,” Anders answered cryptically.

The farrier unhooked the rope so no one had to duck, then replaced it behind himself. The heat scalded the air, actually drying their skin out at the sudden intensity. Sam stared in awe at the tools and colorful figurines lining a table, but Gabriel kept his eyes on the glassblower.

Anders led him to another table that contained a cloth-wrapped object. “I wanted you to have this.” He gestured for Gabriel to go ahead. “I saw you both walking through the festival this morning, and I felt inspired to craft it between shows.”

Gabriel gingerly peeled back the cloth, and gasped.

The figure of a person standing, one hand reaching out, measured about a foot high. The body was a veritable gem of colors that fractured in the light, casting prisms all around. Flaring from the figure's back were six wings of pure golden glass. The bottom two wings trailed to the base, allowing the sculpture to balance between them and the two feet.

Sam made a choked noise beside him. He was staring at the glass figure head-on, the arm reaching straight for him. The hunter's hand covered his mouth, but his face reflected the same shock and fear of discovery that Gabriel felt.

Turning to the glassblower, he found the man watching them closely. Dark eyes held no malice—only warm empathy. “I hope you don't mind,” he said softly. “I couldn't really help myself.”

“You...” Gabriel trailed off, not sure what to ask.

Anders nodded. “The sight runs in my family. Freddy's got it too. She spotted one of your brothers here yesterday. Followed him around like a lost puppy. He was kind and pretended not to notice.”

“Brother?”

“Blue eyes? Wore a trench coat in ninety-five degree heat and didn't sweat?” the farrier added.

“Cassie was here?” Gabriel's face scrunched up in confusion. He turned to Sam who appeared to be slowly calming down. “Did Dean mention a craft fair to you?”

“No,” Sam coughed from the smoke. “But he did come back sunburned and hyper. Which means he gorged himself on festival food all day.”

“Huh.” He stared at the angel figurine again. His stomach twisted at the longing held in the tension of that one tiny hand. “This is...unbelievable. Why...?”

“It is a gift,” he said simply, carefully replacing the cloth around his creation. “I saw an angel once, as a child. I never thought I'd see one again. And I definitely never thought I'd meet angels who were _family_.”

Sam let out a startled laugh and covered his mouth again. The farrier came over with a large box and packed the glass with bits of foam. Sam helped him get it into a bag.

Gabriel stepped up to Anders and enveloped him in a hug. There was only a moment of hesitation as the man decided where to put his arms, and Gabriel realized he was trying to avoid the wings. Laughing, the archangel tucked them away on a different plane. Massive arms thumped against his back.

“Listen,” the glassblower whispered to him, “there's gonna be times where you want to let go. But that's when you gotta hold even tighter.”

“That simple, huh?” Gabriel sniffed against his shoulder.

“Maybe,” Anders said, pulling back to look him in the eye. “'What the Good Lord brings together...'”

Gabriel laughed and finished the verse. “'Let no man tear asunder.' Gotcha.”

“Don't let anyone, especially hateful little snots, keep you from who you love.”

“Thank you. For earlier.”

Anders didn't wave or shrug it off. Instead, his gaze turned sharp. “I have fought for everything in my life. No one gets to mock it. I have no tolerance for hate or ignorance.”

Gabriel felt a pang of guilt. How many times had he run when he should have stayed and fought? When he'd let go instead of hold tighter?

A large hand slipped into his, lacing their fingers together. He blinked up into Sam's blurry face as it drew closer. “Come on, Gabe,” his lover said, brushing a kiss to the top of his jaw. “I promised you cotton candy before we go home and try to sneak our loot past our brothers.”

Gabriel shivered, electricity shooting down his spine from the vibrations and breath in his ear. “You better!” he laughed. No one commented how it sounded more like a sob.

As a reward, Gabriel snapped and sent the boxed sculpture back to Sam's room in the bunker. It delighted the glassblower and farrier to no end. Anders wiped unbidden tears from his eyes at the display of power. The archangel paused, marveling at the man's emotional response to something so small.

They had one last round of hugs and words of gratitude. Then, Sam led him silently from the tent by the hand. A few people glanced their way without saying anything, and after a while they both relaxed into it.

Who knew two palms touching could produce pure ecstasy?

They walked with as much contact as possible, their shoulders and hips bumping each other. It made them clumsy. And they laughed every time someone bounced too hard away and the other one had to pull them back.

Sunset found them in a park overlooking the town's lake. Fireworks were scheduled to begin as soon as the sky grew dark enough. Sam sprawled out on the grass with Gabriel's head cushioned against his stomach.

“This is nice,” Gabriel murmured.

Sam ran his fingers through the archangel's shaggy hair. “You're right, it is.” He sounded surprised.

Gabriel shifted so he could see Sam's face. “What made you change your mind?”

“The sculpture,” Sam said, staring up into the sky. One by one, stars blinked into existence.

“Really?”

“It's face—it looked so much like you. You took that cloth off, and all I could see was you reaching for me, and I just...All I wanted to do was reach back.” he cut off, swallowing hard as his throat grew tight. “It seemed so silly, all of a sudden. Like, I've faced monsters and evil beyond human comprehension, but some punk kid made me back down.”

“Hey,” Gabriel pushed up so he was leaning over Sam, bracing his hands on either side of the man's head. “You are the bravest, brightest, fiercest soul I know.” He slowly peppered Sam's face with kisses between each word. “There is no rule that says that you aren't allowed to have struggles. You shouldn't have to face society with the same battle-ready attitude you do an army of demons. This is new to both of us—and we play by our own rules. No one else's.”

“You'd just break them anyway,” Sam laughed.

“Isn't that what they're made for?” Gabriel grinned. He ducked down, nuzzling noses before sealing their mouths and swallowing Sam's surprised gasp. For a second, he felt his desperation for closeness spike and he bit into Sam's lower lip.

A throat cleared above them, and they froze.

Gabriel slowly turned his head to look up and found Freddy beaming at them. “You guys remember you're in a public park, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you know that, Sam?” Gabriel asked with a fake gasp, rolling off the hunter to lay next to him in the grass. “I had no idea. I mean, what would we have done without some sassy teeny-bopper coming along to tell us?”

“Heaven only knows,” Sam sighed fondly.

“You want to join us for the fireworks, Freddy?” Gabriel patted the ground beside him. “Plenty of itchy grass to go around.”

“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “My dads are down that way, and I'm sure they'll need the 'public park' announcement if I don't get there soon.” Freddy winked at them and skipped past, yelling over her shoulder, “I hope I see you guys again!”

A boom echoed from across the lake, making them both jump. Then, the sky exploded in a shower of gold. Gabriel leaned his head against Sam's outstretched arm. They laid that way until the finale—their sides pressed together as the cool ground leached away the Summer heat.

Today was definitely a good day.

 

**Author's Note:**

> TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS IN WORDS--I WANTS THEM, PRECIOUS!!
> 
> Come be my friend on Tumblr @TheRiverScribe <3


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